


And in you I had no doubt

by stjarna



Series: Season 6 spec fics [16]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, canon-compliant MCD implied, hopeful end, s6 spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: S6 spec fic in which Fitz fights for their love while Jemma has doubts.





	And in you I had no doubt

**Author's Note:**

> I've written quite a few fics in which Fitz is hesitant, scared, feels guilty once Jemma finds him. I figured it was time to write one in which he's the one fighting for their love and Jemma's the one who is scared and has doubts.
> 
> Big thank you to @dilkirani and @lilsciencequeen.
> 
> Title from "Picture You" by Mumford & Sons
> 
> Kinda reusing an older banner I made for a different fic, but it just fit.

“Jemma, do you have a minute?”

His voice is soft and quiet and yet she can’t help but flinch, closing her eyes, her stomach tightening uncomfortably as her muscles begin to tremble. She swallows against the tight knot forming in her throat and turns her head briefly in his direction—long enough to acknowledge his presence, but not long enough to let his face morph with the lifeless, blood-smeared image burnt into her brain.

“I’m quite busy, Fitz. Sorry,” she lies. Even just saying his name aloud hurts.

She stares back through the microscope at the tissue sample, trying to ignore the tears clouding her vision. She hates herself for pushing him away. She knows it’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense to push away the person you couldn’t imagine being without, the one for whom you spent months searching.

“Yeah, no, of course,” she hears him say, quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

She squints, wiping away a tear on her cheek with the heel of her hand, hoping he won’t notice.

_He didn’t miss much_ , she’d told Coulson. And she believed it at the time, but once they’d found him—everything he’d missed had become as abundantly clear as everything she’d lost.

She hadn’t been able to pick up where they’d left off. She couldn’t be with him, because his presence was a painful reminder of having lost him and the potential of losing him again. She couldn’t look at him, because he had the face of the man she’d married without being her husband.

“You know what, I’m going to talk anyway,” he suddenly pipes up, calmly and yet surprising enough to cause Jemma to inhale sharply.

“Fitz, I—” she tries to interject, lifting her head slightly and yet unable to turn around.

“Please, Jemma,” he interrupts her, “you don’t even have to turn around. You don’t have to look at me. You don’t have to say anything. Just—I just need to get some things off my chest.”

She places her palms flat on the table to keep them from trembling and closes her eyes. He knows her too well. It shouldn’t surprise her—and still it does. “Okay,” she whispers, barely audibly.

He exhales sharply, and before her inner eye she can see him standing with his hands on his hips, his gaze shyly somewhere between the floor and her.

“I know you’re hurting. And you’re angry.” he says calmly, a hint of sadness and guilt in his tone, as he pauses between sentences with nervous hesitation. “And I know it’s my fault—and his. And I’m sorry.”

His voice breaks off, as he chokes back a sob. Jemma shuts her eyes even more tightly, a single tear jumping off her lashes. She knows it isn’t his fault—nor hers, and yet she also knows that’s what it feels like.

“I’m sorry for breaking our promise,” he continues, sniffling quietly. “Twice—more than that. I’m sorry for leaving you. When the monolith took you, people said—well, not to my face, not until Coulson, but—the point is, I didn’t have to, because there was no proof. There was no proof that you were dead, so I didn’t have to—but you did. I left you proof. And I’m sorry.”

She hears him take a step closer and flinches, her muscles tightening. Then all is silent for a moment. She knows he stopped in his tracks. She knows he noticed her fear—no matter how irrational it is.

When he speaks up again, the tremor in his voice is still there, and yet he sounds less hesitant. “I never wanted to hurt you like that. Not after Will. Not after everything. But I can’t change time, Jemma. Even though we proved it can be done. I can’t go back. I don’t have the means.” He scoffs. “I wish I could. I wish I could go back so he could live and you wouldn’t have to feel that pain. And yet, part of me doesn’t want to, because—because I wouldn’t be here if he’d lived. And even if I were, what a mess would that have been?” He chuckles weakly, and Jemma can’t stop the corners of her mouth from ticking up, because she knows it’s the truth.

“I can’t change the past, Jemma,” he repeats. “But I’m here to shape the future. And I want to shape it with you—and for you.”

He sounds excited now, and once again she hears him take a step closer. The muscles in her arms tighten, but she doesn’t flinch. It seems like a small victory.

“I don’t expect you to talk to me right now, or look at me, or forgive me.” He scoffs sadly. “I can’t even do that myself.”

He pauses, inhaling slowly, before exhaling a sharp breath. “I’ll give you time, Jemma. And space. All the time and space you need. But—but I need you to know that I won’t leave. That’s the one thing I can’t do for you. When we were at the bottom of the ocean, you pulled me to the surface and saved my life. And when you were on Maveth, we held on to each other so I could pull you home. You entered a virtual world to bring me back. And I froze myself to find you. And you searched the galaxy for me. That’s what we do, Jemma, isn’t it? We don’t give up. We search until we find each other again, and we pull each other back to safety, back home. So no matter how much time you need, or how much space, I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll pull you to the surface. And maybe then I can breathe again, too.”

He falls silent, only his heavy breathing echoing through the empty lab, while she holds her breath, trying not to give her emotions away. Why? She doesn’t even know herself.

“That’s all,” he eventually says quietly. “That’s all I wanted to say. I—I’ll let you get back to your research.” He sighs, and in her mind she can see him rocking back and forth, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I love you,” he adds, barely above a whisper.

She hears him turn around on his heels, taking a few steps towards the exit. Her muscles begin to tremble as she inhales a shaky breath.

“Fitz!” she exclaims, her voice raspy as if she hadn’t used it in years.

She pauses, listens until she’s sure he’s stopped and turned back around. She shuts her eyes tighter, extending her arm backward without daring to turn around. Her rapid heart beat drowns out any other noise and for a moment she thinks maybe she’s been too late.

But then he gently takes her trembling hand in his and, as if by reflex, her fingers grip tightly. Her body begins to shake with sobs as she pulls herself into his arms, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms around his neck instead. She sinks against his body, her knees giving in beneath her, and gently he lowers both of them to the ground.

She’s too weak to keep her torso up, months of emotions spilling over. She crumbles, her hands barely hanging on to his neck as her head slides down his chest. He wraps one arm around her shoulders, trying to keep her up, pressing the palm of his other hand gently against the side of her head for support.

She sobs, her fingers desperately trying to hang onto him, to pull herself back up.

And then suddenly she opens her eyes. Her inhale freezes and she holds her breath, as she notices the steady beating of his heart where her ear rests against his chest. She closes her eyes again, letting out a soft exhale as her quieting sobs mix with a hint of laughter.

She looks up, pressing her palm against the spot that her ear had just covered, noticing how her fingers pick up the same steady rhythm.

Her gaze wanders to his concerned blue irises and for the first time since she’s lost him the sight brings her serenity.

She scoffs, somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. “I pressed my ear against your chest—so hard. I tried to will your heartbeat back into existence. But it was gone.” She inhales a stuttering breath while Fitz cups her face, guilt shimmering in his eyes as he wipes away her tears.

She smiles, her eyes wandering to where her hand is pressed against his chest. “But it’s right there. It came back.” She looks up, raising her palm to rest against his stubbly cheek. “You came back. You never left really.” Her fingers glide across the soft skin below his eyes. “I couldn’t look at you, because all I saw was your face—pale, and dusty, and drained of all life.” She squints, tracing his hairline with her fingertips. “But you’re right here, aren’t you? I can see you, I can feel your warmth, I can hear you breathe, hear your heartbeat, and smell your scent, and—”

She pauses, allowing herself to get lost in his eyes, glimmering behind a curtain of tears. The corners of her mouth tick up, before she closes her eyes, pressing her lips softly against his and allowing all her senses to have proof of his existence.

She breaks the kiss, cupping his face, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You’re here.”

He nods, blinking away tears. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll still give me time?” she asks quietly, even though she knows his answer.

He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, bobbing his head. “As much as you need.”

She smiles, before leaning in for another gentle kiss.


End file.
